


Putting the Z back in Zaubertrank

by Ambrosia_Ragweed



Series: Good Intentions [1]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emo, Explicit Language, Infidelity, Intoxication, M/M, Not Beta Read, Smut, Zaubertrank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:11:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrosia_Ragweed/pseuds/Ambrosia_Ragweed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a promp posted at Grimm Kink: Rosalee can't help but notice the sexual tension between Nick and Monroe so she decides to give them a little "help" with one of her potions. </p><p>http://grimm-kink.dreamwidth.org/3689.html?thread=2380905#cmt2380905</p>
            </blockquote>





	Putting the Z back in Zaubertrank

“So,” Rosalee began as Monroe helped her label and price a box of new inventory, “you and Nick still having coffee in the mornings?”

“Sometimes,” Monroe replied pretending to be oblivious. 

“You see him like what twice a week?”

Monroe cursed, “ah I think I mislabeled the yarrow as Acacia nilotica. I don’t know what I was thinking; sure it came in marked as Achillea but…”,Monroe paused, “At least I caught it. “

She stared at him, evaluating, and then changed the subject. Before he left, she gave him a small bottle of blackberry cordial. A gift from a friend she said but her eyes sparkled. “You have to try it. With Nick. I think he’ll like it. ” A hint of foreboding gnawed at Monroe’s gut. 

A few days passed and, after a delicious dinner of nut loaf with mashed rutabaga smothered in mushroom gravy, he’d forgotten about the unease. He broke out the antique cordial glasses he’d inherited from a distant spinster aunt. Nick drank the first shot with an “I’m only trying this to humor you” look but by the third shot he was filling his glass for a fourth. “Why didn’t you say cordial tasted like candy?” Nick slurred happily. After the fifth shot, there were meteor trails if Monroe moved his head too fast and Nick had a rainbow hued aura. 

Laughing, they collapsed on the sofa. Monroe was giddy and hopefully and a rush of other feelings that made him feel fifteen again, alone with his first real crush. Nick’s mercurial eyes were more blue than gray, probably because of his navy dress shirt. Monroe found himself drowning in them. He’d always thought that was a silly metaphor but now he understood. It was too much; his heart was pounding too hard, so he looked away, down at his hands he rubbed together, and said something about the history of the clock on the mantle. 

Monroe went to stand but Nick pulled him back down. Then they were kissing, Nick’s tongue fucking Monroe’s mouth. Everywhere skin touched skin sparked and burned. Monroe’s cock was so hard it throbbed, hurting. He wallowed in Nick’s scent as he nipped and licked a trail down the other man’s throat. His hand reached to pull Nick’s shirt out of his pants. Nick pushed his hand away. 

“Something,” Nick started unbuttoning his shirt himself, “something is wrong.” He tossed it down on the ground. “You glow. I think there was something in the cordial.””

“You think?” Monroe growled. He brushed fingers lightly over hip bones and then they flittered up to gently wrap around the base of Nick’s throat. He lightly bit his collar bone. 

Then everything exploded. Lips and hands and teeth everywhere touching, burning, kneading…Somehow Monroe found himself kneeling before Nick, sucking him off, while the other man fisted handfuls of his hair. Nick would tug and little tremors of pleasure skittered down Monroe’s scalp to his spine. He swirled his tongue along the head’s underside, enjoying feeling Nick shudder; then, relaxing the muscles at the back of throat, Monroe deep throated as much cock as he could stand. 

“Fuck, I think I’m going to cum.” Nick moaned. 

He did. Monroe thought he tasted better than candy. 

Finally Nick pulled away. “Monroe...I didn’t…I haven’t…”

Monroe wanted to say it was okay, he didn’t need to do anything, but he couldn’t. He burned too hot, his cock throbbed painfully. He was about to ask for a hand job when Nick leaned down, “Fuck me.” He whispered. “I need you too.” 

Monroe knew it was the cordial talking, knew in the morning everything was going to be a Chernobyl sized disaster of a red hot mess, and that by choosing this path he could lose everything important. “Nick…”

“No. I need this.”

Nick got down on his hands and knees, doggy style. Somehow Monroe managed to be patient, to stroke the fires and build Nick’s desire. He worked one finger, waited for Nick to adjust and start moving on his own, then another. Monroe squeezed a generous amount of lube into his hand and worked it over his dick. He slowly breached the outer ring of muscles, then paused waiting for Nick to catch back up. He kissed and licked the other man’s spine. When he felt Nick relax, he started moving slowly. Nick moaned and trembled. “God…” Fucking Nick was like going to heaven, a hot Grimm paradise. Fully sheathed, he pumped harder enjoying the animalistic noises bubbling up out of Nick’s throat. And his own moans, echoing, harmonizing with the sounds of sex. Balls slapping against ass. Grunts. Growls. Oh fuck, he was so close, with one hand on Nick’s hip and the other reaching underneath to jerk the Grimm off, he came. Hard. And then Nick was coming again all over his hand. 

He pulled out and they collapsed, wordlessly, on the sofa. Monroe used his shirt to wipe clean Nick’s dick, his hand and his own cock. 

Uncomfortably, cuddled around each other with most of Nick on top of Monroe, they drifted off to sleep. An hour or so later, Nick woke Monroe up for round two. But the kisses were already starting to taste a little of sorrow. Nick’s eyes burning with more than lust. 

Afterwards, somehow, they barely managed to make it to the bed. Monroe woke up alone. 

He stumbled to the bathroom and found a half dressed Nick staring in the mirror. His body was covered in bite marks and shallow bruises. 

“Hey,” Monroe started not knowing how he was going to finish. 

Nick jumped in, “I borrowed your shower.”

“I was going to make some coffee. I’m trying a new blend. Ethiopian dark roast. And I have bagels.” Nick didn’t say anything and his face held a far off expression with eyes that were a troubled gray with the barest hint of blue. Monroe hesitantly reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Nick?” The hand fluttered uselessly down to his side. 

Nick pulled his head down for a quick kiss, using the same deflection technique that Monroe had watched him use on Juliette hundreds of times. “I think I’m going to go.”

Monroe’s chest hurt. Their whole friendship, Nick had been emotionally honest with him. It hadn’t taken Monroe long, to figure out that probably because of the whole Grimm thing, Nick was very closed off with most people. Monroe had been an exception. “Are we,” Monroe pointed from himself to Nick and then back to himself, “going to be okay?” 

“I’ve imagined this. I just never thought that it would actually happen.” Nick ran a hand through his hair. “But right now I have to go home and figure out what to tell Juliette.” 

Monroe followed Nick into the living room, quietly watched as he shook out the worst wrinkles from his shirt and then searched around for his socks. “Monroe? Can you help?”

Monroe found them in two seconds. “Here.”

“You think you’ll still be up for target practice later today?”

Monroe, trying to read beneath Nick’s charming nothing-is-fucking wrong veneer, didn’t say anything.

“Hey,” Nick smiled, grabbed his upper arm with a squeeze, “I’ll call you.”

If the game was to play along like nothing happened, Monroe wasn’t playing it, “I can’t believe people actually buy this crap.”

“What?”

“You know. This thing you do where you put on a craptastic smile and act like everything’s okay. That you’re not so pissed off you don’t want to beat the ever loving shit out of someone or…” Monroe searched for the words,“or even worried out of your freaking mind or whatever.”

“I can’t deal with this right now.” Nick, stormy eyed, spat as he squeezed the life out of his leather jacket. “I have to go face Juliette and I am not a cheater.”

“Nick…” 

“Last night, you were pretty fucking plastered but I knew what I was doing, Monroe. I knew. I just didn’t care.” Nick looked away, the muscles in his jaw clenched. “I didn’t care who I hurt and that’s not me. I love Juliette.” 

“I know Nick.” Monroe gazed down at his toes, suddenly realizing he was only wearing boxers. “I…”

The jacket dropped to the floor. Nick wrapped his hands around the base of Monroe’s skull, his fingers threaded through dark hair, and pulled him down for a real kiss complete with tongue. Monroe growled and instinctually took over. His large hands slipped around Nick’s narrow waist to pull him close. He smelled the lingering scent of last night’s sex mixing with their current arousal in a potent chemical aphrodisiac. He was hard and growing harder. His hands move from waist to ass, kneading, massaging. Nick broke the kiss, his head falling back as a quiet keening whispered from his throat. Monroe licked the helix of one of Nick’s ears and nipped the lobe. 

Nick’s cell rang from his jacket pocket. He hesitated until a second ring to release Monroe and pick up the leather; the phone fell out of the pocket and into his hand. “Hank,” he said as he flipped it open and placed it, cradled, against his ear. Then, after a quiet back and forth, he shut it. “There’s been a murder. I have to go.” 

“Call me if you need any help.” Monroe offered; his mind already turning towards coffee and breakfast. 

Later, after breakfast and a shower, Monroe called Rosalee. “About the cordial?”

“How was it?” She asked. Her voice sparkled with happy anticipation. 

“Good. Good. Seemed to have some unusual properties.”He answered politely, not wanting to get into the whole lust filled night. “Where did you get it?”

“From a white witch. She called it True Love’s Kiss; it’s supposed to make people confess their feelings. Did it work?”

“Yup. So thanks. But next time a warning would be nice.” Monroe hung up, thinking about the road to hell and good intentions. 


End file.
